Faith's Interment
by NightGoddess
Summary: Peace. It seemed impossible long ago, but slowly mutants have been accepted as part of society, but as the Xmen's children gather at the institute, they find things waiting in the wings that could change all of that.
1. Chapter 1

This whole thing is pretty much a writing exercise so that I can play with characters, style, plot, and all that good stuff within a universe that I know rather well but have been allowed to tweak.

Secondly, as much as I love Evolution, it's representation of high school was about as realistic as a Disney movie (not dissing Disney, I'm watching the Little Mermaid right now). Yeah, I also realize that the cartoon is aimed at, well, kids, and they don't want to promote things like swearing and making sloppy teenage love and underage drinking, which might end up being part of the story.

Number Three: This is sort of a continuation of my series 'It's a Scary, Scary Thing' which you don't have to read to understand this at all.

Fourth, I pulled in three random comic characters: Emma Frost, Chamber, and Sage, so just be on the outlook for them.

Fourth prime: I have insane pairings for parents. (See my profile if you want to see the complete list)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are copyrighted to Marvel, WB (CW?), and whoever else might have some right to them. All characters that are not immediately recognized are the property of the writer in question.

Prologue

_In the years following the aftermath of Apocalypse, many things were put into motion. One of which was the fatal heart attack that brought down the mutant radical, Magneto. His former alley Mystique had turned her own back on the mutant superiority cause, joining forces with the government agency S.H.I.E.L.D. Without a leader, the mutant supremacy groups fell apart and the X-men, no longer, needed disbanded themselves. Many going their own separate ways to settle down and start families. _ _It would seem that Xavier's dream was nearly accomplished as Congress carefully examines a middle of the road bill of rights for mutants. Except new foes lurk in the wings and who knows what will come of it?_ Chapter One 

Sam stared at the mansion for a moment before propelling himself into action. He pulled out his two suitcases and his duffel bag. He slipped the duffel bag's strap onto his shoulder and carefully counted out the fare to the driver who peeled away as fast as he could after that, nearly running Sam down.

Sam almost wished he hadn't missed.

He strode over to gate and pressed the black button on the buzz box. It beeped loudly and several moments later a voice came through on the other end. "Right, come in." The other line went dead and the gate swung open, squealing on unoiled hinges. He sighed and stared at the long walk to the other side of the lawn driveway and to the front steps. The driveway looped in a circle, a green circular stretch of lawn set in the middle. It was immaculately kept, perfectly green, and not a blade was out of place, which just added to the appeal of walking across it.

And Sam did just that.

A man about the same age as Sam's own father waited for him on the steps. He smiled genially and held out his hand. "I'm Scott Summers. You must be Samuel Starsmore."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I must be." Instead of shaking Scott's hand, Sam handed him the handle of his suitcase. Scott took the suitcase without complaint and lead Sam up the stairs and to his room. A gray coated the walls, and the furniture was obviously well made but impersonal. It reminded Sam of a hotel room, but whatever. He could change that.

Sam began surveying the room, taking in things that had to change. For example, the bed had to be moved away from the window. Sam considered his room as he half listened to Scott while he ticked off a short list of rules, and nodded at all the right parts. "We'll go over more when everyone has arrived."

"Hey . . ." someone started. "Oh you're busy."

"No wait, Rusty, come back here," Scott ordered. There was a sigh and a dark figure stepped into Sam's slightly better lit room.

"Rusty, this is Sam Starsmore. Sam, this is my son Rusty."

Sam blinked and stared at the two. Scott wore khakis. Rusty's black jeans had chains hanging off the belt loops. Scott wore penny loafers. Rusty's boots had a bandanna tied around the ankle. Scott had shoulders like a linebacker. Rusty looked more like a kicker. There were however a few similarities. Rusty's hair was brown with a definite red tinge to the locks and a white streak running through the bangs. Their faces looked vaguely similar, but Sam figured he had better things to puzzle over than whether Rusty looked more like his mom or his dad.

Rusty in turn gave Sam the once over and jerked his head in greeting, "Hey."

"Hey," Sam returned the nod.

"Sam, why don't you unpack, and Rusty can show you around," Scott gave Sam a quick smile before exiting the room.

"I hate it when he does that!" Rusty groaned. "Just volunteers me to do shit."

"You don't have to," Sam told Rusty with a shrug, pulling one of his bags onto the bed and unzipping it to check the cargo.

"I would have done it anyway. You're the only guy here anywhere close to my age."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. " Sam pulled out his C.D. player and a stack of C.D.s, setting them on the bed and glancing around his room.

"How the hell did you get that?" Rusty asked, pointing.

"Get what?"

"That CD," Rusty clarified, pulling it from the pile. "The Above Average IQ: Death of a Debutante? This isn't supposed to come out for another three weeks. How'd you get it?"

"Dad works with them. He gets stuff all the time. Wanna a borrow it?"

"If you were not a dude, I would kiss you!" Rusty exclaimed flipping the CD over to look at the back.

Sam laughed. "So, The Truth has Come or Broken Cloudiness?"

"What album are we talking about?"

"The latest ones."

"Gotta go with The Truth. I love Broken Cloudiness' earlier stuff, but lately it's gotten so watered down. This close to politically correct."

Sam nodded and glanced around the room. "I've been here ten minutes and I already hate this room."

"Don't blame you," Rusty said. "Want me to move stuff?"

"The bed, over there, maybe?" Sam asked looking across the room and looking at the heavy bed.

Rusty shrugged. "No problem. Move out of the way."

Sam looked at Rusty and raised an eyebrow, "All right."

Rusty closed his green eyes briefly and then the bed began to move slowly over to the other side of the room. It bumped against the wall and then settled back to the floor.

"Nice." Sam complimented.

Rusty shrugged again. "Anything else?"

"Nah."

"How about I show you around and teach you the rules."

"Sounds fun." Sam commented sarcastically.

"I mean the useful rules. Screw curfew. These are the ones you need to survive around here." Rusty grinned and without waiting for a reply started for the door.

To Sam "useful rules" sounded like an oxymoron, however Rusty would be the authority on the subject and he felt obliged to follow him.

"IT'S HOT!" screeched a blond as she stood in front of the fan, rotating along with it.

"Chloe, you do you know that you can make it stop moving?" Rusty questioned.

"Doesn't work," she responded, brushing a piece of neon blue bang out of her eyes.

"I'm not surprised," Rusty commented dryly. "Chloe, this is Sam. Sam, Chloe."

Sam nodded at Chloe. She stood at about five and a half feet. Her white blond hair was chopped just slightly below her chin, but her bangs were dyed a bright blue. Her eyes were nearly the same unearthly shade

Chloe turned to study him for a moment. Instead of the quick roving movement that people employed when they were meeting new people, her eyes seem fixated on one spot on his lower face.

Rusty leaned over, "Chloe, staring is weird."

Chloe ignored him and instead took a step toward Sam. "Has anyone told you that you have a really nice bottom lip?"

"I what?" Sam asked, taking a step back.

" Your bottom lip. It's the most perfect thing I have ever seen." Chloe repeated, taking a step closer to Sam.

"Uhm, thank you, I think," Sam's eyes shifted nervously.

Chloe shrugged. "No problem. Normally I don't go for the labret piercing but it works for you. I like the hair too."

Sam touched his naturally black hair with the not so natural patch of blue in the back. Rusty stifled a laugh fully expecting Chloe to say something about Sam's Metallica shirt, his shoes, his blue eyes, and every other conceivable part of his appearance that she found to her liking. But, today turned out to be Sam's lucky day as Chloe stopped.

"You're welcome. Now I am going to take a shower. Later."

Sam stared after her confused. "Uhm what was that about?"

"Chloe is on a search for the most perfect pair of lips," Rusty explained. "She likes your bottom one."

"I gathered that."

Rusty shrugged. "Chloe's insane, but for the most part harmless unless provoked, so in short, don't get in between her and any of her hot guys, don't mention conservatism or math, and you'll probably be okay."

"Rusty!" A voice called. "Rusty, where are you?"

Rusty sucked in his cheeks and pursed his lips. "I'm right here, Mom!" He responded.

A red head came down the hallway and Sam began to wonder Rusty's parentage. "Rusty, where . . ." she left off suddenly spying Sam. "Oh, hello, you must be Sam."

"Yeah."

She held out her hand, which Sam took. "I'm Jean Grey-Summers. Pleasure to meet you."

Sam mumbled something unintelligible that sounded like nice to meet you too.

"I'm showing Sam around, Mom. See you later," Rusty grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him down the hallway.

"Are you sure they're your parents?" Sam asked.

"I ask myself that question every day," Rusty sighed. "Now quick rundown on the grown up's around here.

"Logan's cool as long as you're not training.

"Bobby, just forget him. He's more like a teenager stuck in an adult body. Don't worry. He'll pretend he cares for about forty seconds and then get distracted by something shiny.

"Jubilee--who's married to Bobby, for some strange reason—I'll well, just don't mess with her; she's pregnant. Storm follows the rules, loosely. It depends whether or not they infringe on our rights as human beings."

"And your parents?" Sam asked although he thought he knew the answer.

"They live for rules and their strict enforcement," Rusty sighed.

"Fun."

Rusty showed Sam around the rest of the upper floors to the mansion before the two returned to Sam's room where Rusty was helping Sam unpack and they got to know each other better.

Suddenly, Rusty winced and grabbed his forehead, snapping his eyes shut. "Ouch. Sorry, man, I'm getting a telepathic tirade at the moment."

"So your mom can yell at you at any time, any place, without having to come find you?"

"More or less."

"Wow that sucks."

"You're telling me. Well, I'll be back after a screaming match with my mother."

"Have fun."

"Right." The door swung closed behind Rusty. Sam finished stacking the rest of his CD's and reached down to pull another bag that needed to be unloaded but found that there weren't anymore.

He sat on his bed and stared at his room and then struck with a sudden urge to go outside and get some fresh air. He grabbed his iPod and headphones and decided to explore the mansion's grounds.

Sam found a large expanse of well-cultivated garden. So, he stuck his headphones on and decided to unwind with his music, maybe catch a quick nap. He was still tired from the flight and time change. Rusty would find him again.

He stretched out a smooth, cool, stone bench and allowed his eyes to close as music filled his ear.

Sam must have dozed off because suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jerked awake expecting to find Rusty, but was met with someone quite different.

Wet black hair had been pulled away from her face in ponytail. She had dark brown skin and brown, nearly black eyes. Her gray t-shirt was smudged with something that looked and smelled like oil, another small smear underlined her left eye like a streak of war paint. She was barefoot and was wearing a pair of shorts that would have made Daisy Duke jealous.

Sam sat up. "Who're you?" he asked.

"I'm Harley." She straightened up and quirked a brow at him. "You?"

"I'm Sam."

"Charmed, I'm sure," she stated this as she was anything but. They stared at each other for a moment in silence before Harley said, "I have to water."

"Am I stopping you?"

"In way, yes." She rested a hand against her hip.

Sam raised a brow and didn't budge.

"Fine, stay there. You'll just get wet." Harley grumbled impatiently, stalking away a few paces. She raised her arms and from her hands rolled out what looked like thick fog. It solidified itself around the garden and then Harley snapped her fingers and from every corner a torrential downpour started, including above Sam's own head.

"Ack!" He leapt to his feet as the cold water sprayed over him.

Harley paid him no attention. After several moments, the clouds stopped raining and the clouds vanished.

Wet across his head, neck, and part of his back, Sam watched her in annoyance and something that seemed something like interest.

"I tried to warn you." Harley asserted.

"It wasn't a very good warning."

Harley shrugged and then pivoted and walked away, a defiant swing to her hips. "Bye, Sam."

A sudden blast of hot air nearly made him loose his balance, but the warm air, dried his shirt and the bench off.

He ran a hand through his thick black-blue hair that was still sopping wet.

"Ah, I see you met Harley," Rusty commented.

"Yeah. Lovely girl," sarcasm dripped off the last two words. "Nice butt, though."

Rusty glanced at Sam. "Do you like living?"

"Yeah, rather fond of it."

"Then don't say that ever again. Logan will hear you." 


	2. Screams of the Gate

Chapter Two

There was the sound of something screeching like a badly tuned violin. Surprised, Harley opened her eyes. There was another crash. Scowling, she slipped out of bed and to the door. The doorknob was cold in her hand as she turned it. She stepped outside, holding her hand up, lightning crackling in her palm as a light.

Rusty leaned out of his bedroom squinting into darkness.

Harley nodded although Rusty couldn't see her. Sam and Chloe joined them in the hallway. "I can't see," Chloe commented.

"Well, it's dark, stupid," Rusty retorted. "Put your glasses on."

"It's still dark," Chloe sniffed, unfolding her glasses and sliding them up her nose.

Harley smirked and glanced at Sam who was looking at her. "What're you doing?"

"Nice outfit."

Harley glanced down at her pajamas. Her oversized Eeyore shirt and her green Tinkerbell shorts. They didn't match, but they were her pajamas. It didn't matter. "At least, I'm not sleeping in black socks," Harley responded scathingly, glancing at Sam's feet. Sam had lived with them for a grand total of three days and he and Harley had already managed to get off on the wrong foot and were obviously planning to continue hopping on that foot.

"My feet get cold."

Harley snorted.

Rusty motioned for the other two to shut up and ducked back into his room.

"If this turns into a teen slasher flick, he'd better be the first one to go," Chloe muttered, glaring after Rusty.

Rusty reappeared. "It was the gate."

"The gate?" Sam echoed.

"God, we need to oil that thing!" Chloe grumbled. "I'm going back to bed." Just as she turned a voice echoed through all of their minds.

:_Students, please report to the foyer.:_

"It's too early to be welcoming," Harley grumbled.

"Oh, yes, you're much better at it in the afternoon," Sam shot back.

Harley growled at him. Rusty stepped in between the two. "Guys, I do not want to have to clean up twisted remains right now." Rusty grabbed Harley's hand that didn't have lighting dancing across it and pulled her down the hallway while Chloe grabbed Sam by the ear.

"Ow! That hurts! Let go!" Sam yelped.

"Oh, quit being such a baby, you have another one," Chloe told him flatly.

"Everybody this is Kerri DaCosta, she just came here from Brazil." Kerri was long legged with straight black hair and a thick framing of eyeliner around her eyes.

Kerri raised her eyebrows and nodded at the four students gathered on the staircase. There was chorus of various greetings. "Kerri, this is Rusty, Chloe, Harley, and Sam," Jean pointed to each person in turn.

"Nice, can I go to bed now?" Kerri asked looking at Jean.

Rusty proclaimed with a grin on his face, "I like her!"

"Gee, thanks," Kerri said as though she truly cared not.

"I'll take her to her room," Harley offered, covering a yawn.

"Thank you, Harley," Jean beamed. "We could all use some rest."

The four teens glanced at each other and turned and started back up the staircase. "Well, that was waste of waking me from the best dream ever," Rusty grumbled.

"Was it the same as last week's I.E. whatsherface in a bikini running in slow motion?" Chloe asked.

"Dude, you've seen entirely too much _Baywatch_," Sam told Rusty.

Harley and Kerri watched the other three go. "Always that weird?" Kerri asked.

"No, they get weirder."

"Ah." Harley hefted one of Kerri's suitcases and headed up the stairs. All the second floor rooms, "the student hall," were in sets of two that were connected by a bathroom. Harley went to the second set of doors and set the suitcase down. "That's your room. There's the bathroom and you're going to have to share it with somebody else probably." She shrugged not in much of a hostess mood.

"Thanks," Kerri said, making a beeline for the bed. "Night."

"Night." Harley found she liked the other girl's no-nonsense, brisk attitude. She headed back to her room and found Chloe sitting cross-legged on her bed.

"Chloe."

"I got her Scott file," Chloe grinned waving the manila folder around tauntingly. The Scott Files were what Chloe had nicknamed the file on Scott's computer that kept information on all the students. "And mine, yours, and Rusty's."

"Why and how?"

"Scott's email password is _password_, all right, not that hard. He thinks he's being all intelligent with his new one." Chloe rolled her eyes.

"What was it?"

"IheartJean."

"That's kind of pathetic."

"And just a wee bit creepy," Chloe said, flicking the folder open and laying it on her lap.

"Chloe Drake, (glad to know he knows my name). Age: sixteen; hair: blond; blue bangs; eyes: blue . . . da da. Wow, these are boring!"

"It's Scott. He's not exactly thriller movie material," Harley pointed out, grabbing her rolling desk chair and pushing it over to her bed.

"Yeah, he's like a documentary . . . on a rock," Chloe agreed. "Powers: Can create light in solid beams and flashes. Slight immunity to cold.

"It sounds so . . . boring when you put it down on paper."

"That's what you do isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but it still sounds dull." Chloe waved her hand and made what looked like a perfectly miniature of a neon sign that read Eat at Joe's. "Anyway, back to the newb!" She flipped the folder open. Her 'Eat at Joe's' sign still flashed on and off next to her shoulder.

"Kerri DaCosta; sixteen; Powers: minds impenetrable to psychic attack, can sense other mutants, and heighten mutant powers or sap energy to lessen other mutant power and increase her bodily strength.

"See now _that_ sounds good on paper," Chloe whined, shutting the folder and pouting. "When you put mine on paper, it sounds like I'm an electrician."

Harley yawned and picked up her own folder glancing down at the Power section. "'Empathetic link to weather and a healing factor,' don't worry, Chlo, mine sounds boring too."

"Yeah, but still you got the whole control the weather thing. Like that doesn't get people's attention."

"Go to bed," Jean ordered as she walked by Harley's door.

"Go to bed," Harley and Chloe mocked.

"I heard that."

"Having a telepathic mother sucks!" Rusty shouted.

"I'm trying to sleep!" Sam yelled.

"No one cares, ho bag!" Harley yelled back.

"Harley, don't say ho bag!" Jean lectured.

"How about we all shut up!" Logan suggested forcibly from his and Storm's room.

There was absolute silence.

Chloe slipped from Harley's room . . . but left her Eat at Joe's sign behind. Harley stared at it. There was no possible way to get rid of it. It blinked off and blinked on and blinked back off and blinked back on.

Harley glared at it before crossing the room and turning off the light. It continued to blink casting an odd purple glow across her room. Harley groaned and pulled a pillow over her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

Nothing doing. The light still flashed above her head. Knowing Chloe's handiwork, it wouldn't be fading anytime soon.

Harley scrubbed her face with her hands and sat up in bed, glaring at the sign. "Damn," she muttered before slinging her legs over the side of the bed and crossing the room. She tugged her shirt off and grabbed a tank top. The air in the room was suddenly hot and oppressive and she wanted _out_.

Silently, she opened the door and crept down the hallway. She half ran down the stairs and threw herself out into the open night air. Dew damp grass tickled the soles of her feet as she jogged behind the mansion. There was a lot of space out behind the mansion and she needed away. Nature was calming.

Harley finally stopped in a field. Up to her knees were damp with dew. Her lungs burned for lack of air and her skin was warm and sweat trickled down her neck. She wiped it off with her hand and then wiped it on her shorts.

She stood; her eyes closed for a few long moments.

The odd feeling of being watched overwhelmed her for a moment. Her eyes opened and then narrowed as she peered around in the gloomy night. A breeze rippled across the field, flattening the grass and whipping Harley's hair around her face, and then the oppressive invisible gaze was gone.

Harley shook her head. Her skin crawled and her calm was shattered. She turned and took a careful sweeping glance around her before starting off back to the mansion.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Harley, time to get up," a gruff voice ordered. There was the familiar sound of her blind snapping back into place.

"Dad," She groaned and pulled her blanket over her head.

"It's noon."

Harley pulled her blanket back to squint at her clock. "It's eleven-fifty-five. I have five more minutes."

"Nice try, Rebel. Up and at 'em."

Harley moaned and slowly crawled out of bed to sprawl on the floor. "There, I'm out of bed." She pushed herself into a sitting position and squinted at Logan.

"Good. Get dressed and get downstairs."

Harley moaned and grabbed some clothes before heading to the bathroom to get a shower. Twisting her wet hair out off her back and into a bun, Harley hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. She grabbed an apple and headed out front where she could hear voices.

"What's going on?" Harley asked.

"Nothing. Mom kicked us out. Said the fresh air would do us some good," Rusty rolled his eyes.

"Look at this! I'm pink!" Sam held his arm out. Indeed, Sam's pale skin had taken on a definite pinkish tinge.

Chloe was laying spread eagle in the grass. "Look I see the Eiffel tower!" She exclaimed. "And a ducky in a raincoat!"

Kerri looked at Chloe. The glance clearly saying you're a freak, which Chloe was.

An hour later all topics of conversation had been exhausted, Sam was steadily getting closer to the color of uncooked red meat, and awkward silence spread out between the five teens.

The sound of a car engine purring in the distance broke into silence and all the teens jerked up to watch a sleek black limousine pull up to the mansion.

"Did the professor go somewhere today?" Harley asked.

"No, he's been in his study all morning," Rusty replied, "waiting for a new student."

Chloe's nose wrinkled slightly, "Do you think _that's_ the new student?"

Rusty picked a little at the grass in front of him. "Bet he's a prick."

The limo pulled around the driveway stopping in front of the doors, and the chauffer leapt out, quickly crossed to back door and opened it.

An older blond man, dressed in Armani, with a pair of large white feathery wings sticking out of his back stepped out of the limo first.

Chloe's mouth dropped open in pure appreciation.

Rusty leaned over, "He's old enough to be your father," he whispered.

"I don't care," Chloe hissed back, mouth still slightly open.

"Close your mouth please, Michael, we are not a cod fish," Sam mocked a very bad Mary Poppins voice.

"You have ruined childhood memories," Harley told Sam without much heart, as she was busy gazing at the limo as well.

A foot in a painfully high, high heel carefully placed itself on the pavement next to the car, another appeared next to it followed by long, tan legs that were covered by a short dark skirt.

"Sam, hold me," Rusty said grabbing his arm.

"NO!" Sam exclaimed also fascinated by the rest of the teenage girl.

"Men are animals," Chloe commented.

"Hypocritical much?" Rusty asked.

"I didn't ask anyone to hold me . . . especially Sam. Now, let's go play welcome wagon to the blond and the beautiful," Chloe grinned wickedly, seizing Rusty by the arm and dragging him up and over to intercept their walk.

"Hello!" She greeted cheerfully, sticking out her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Worthington. You are Warren Worthington, are you not?" Mentally she cursed Sam for getting her stuck in a Mary Poppins talk.

Rusty leaned in closer to her. "I shall kill you later." _Damn, Sam! _He thought, _and Chloe for making me watch that movie so freakin' much. I wanna watch Star Wars! No Mary Poppins! _

Mr. Worthington glanced between the two and then a look at his daughter out of the corner of his eye. Juliet merely looked bored. She sighed extravagantly and looked pointedly in the other direction.

"Yes, I am Warren Worthington, and I am afraid that I don't know your name . . ."

"I'm Chloe. Chloe Drake." _Why did I say my last name? _

"You're Bobby's daughter, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Chloe said, looking at the ground, and then shoved Rusty forward. "This is Andrew Russell Dane Summers," she smiled.

"Nice to meet you, sir," Rusty muttered. "Everyone just calls me Rusty, by the way."

"I'll do my best to remember that," Warren told the teenager. "Oh, and this is my daughter, Juliet."

Juliet turned to actually face the other two teens and gave them a quick, tight smirk before going back to studying the tree that she was intent on. Her thick perfect blond hair falling across her face in such a way that sent Rusty into a momentary spasm that he quickly turned into a yawn. "Sorry, my dad got me up early. You know running laps. All about the laps!" His eye twitched.

"That sounds like Scott," Warren muttered.

Chloe snorted and then went back to smiling serenely, "How about I take you to go see the Professor?"

"That would be wonderful," Warren smiled at Chloe, which sent her to cloud nine. She turned and led him through the door.

"Prick," Sam echoed Rusty's first sentiment. "An extremely beautiful prick."

Kerri looked at Sam and then rolled her eyes. "Men," she grumbled.

"Agreed," Harley crossed her arms.

Rusty crossed back over to his friends and sat down. "Well, I'm glad that went so well," he mumbled.

"Yeah, we could see the look of disgust from here," Harley pointed out.

Rusty sighed, "Better to get rejected up front without even asking. Thanks, Chloe!"

"Yeah, where did she go?" Harley asked.

"She's probably molesting Mr. Worthington as we speak, but she said she was taking him to see the Professor." Rusty brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"What are you bums doing?" Logan asked, coming out of nowhere (he was good at that). He pulled out a cigar and lit it.

"Sitting," Sam replied, looking back up at Logan.

"You're funny, kid, real funny, and you're sitting too close to my daughter."

Sam glanced at Harley who was at least three feet away from him and then scootched farther away, placing Rusty and Kerri in between him and Harley. "Better," Logan acknowledged.

"Great, I'll live for three more hours. I shall cherish them."

"I'm in giving mood. I'll give you four."

"Oh happy day!" Sam exclaimed sarcastically.


End file.
